


Gifts For Yantiskra

by RemixtheBox



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Angst, Fluff, M/M, Secret Santa, but like only a little
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-29
Updated: 2016-12-29
Packaged: 2018-09-13 00:54:07
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 854
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9098380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RemixtheBox/pseuds/RemixtheBox
Summary: So I received lovely prompts for a secret Santa and because I liked all of them, I decided to write a short little fic for each. Please Enjoy!





	

**Author's Note:**

> So the prompt was that Russia Could control fire and what would America's reaction to finding out. I had an idea for a verse kind of like this, so this prompt was really fun to do.
> 
> ~Remix

Alfred knew that he should probably turn him in. He liked to think of himself as a law abiding citizen, good and righteous in all the ways of the word. Even the small, silly laws that no one really followed like jay-walking or coming to a complete stop at a four way even when there are no other cars on the road Alfred exalted in the highest esteem. Breaking one of the big ones had never even crossed his mind even once.

Well, not until he just found out his boyfriend of three years was an elemental, of all things. 

See, everyone was born with a gift. Sometimes that gift was as mundane as always making a perfect cup a tea or being able to stay completely dry in the rain. Some gifts were more advanced, like telepathy or becoming invisible. However every once in awhile (approximately 1 in 800,000), there would be a human with a gift so powerful and dangerous there was no choice but to lock them in a facility to grow up in for the rest of their lives.

These few were called elementals, even though science has proved the objects of control not to be elements at all. Some could control ice, while others bent plants to their will, or a person could be cursed the worst of the bunch, fire. 

Which is exactly what he just caught his boyfriend doing.

It was their anniversary, of all days. It was the day they finally decided that they were only rivals so they could be close to one another, not because they held any hatred towards the other. It was the day that Alfred gathered up the courage to use his gift (which was being able to understand and speak any language he heard fluently) to express in Ivan’s native tongue that he was very interested in taking him on a date and putting his own mouth onto Ivan’s mouth. In that phrasing too, although in Russian it sounded incredibly stupid and Ivan laughed right in his face. He apologized shortly after and they had probably the most disgustingly cheesy first date follow. It was a good memory, and Alfred was calling on it now.

Ivan finally noticed his presence in the door. The man instantly dropped the marshmallow he was toasting onto the ground, rushing to explain the situation in a way to make it sound that he was not just making a fire from his palm. He stopped when he saw Alfred’s face, because it was just so heartbroken and sad and exactly what he had been trying to avoid.

Ivan had worked his entire life to learn how to control his gift. He had to take care of his family; it was not an option to rot in ‘the facility’ while his sisters starved. There had been some accidents of course, the burns on his neck and chest as proof, but he learned pretty quickly that as long as he was never too angry or passionate, it would never become a problem. His cold persona and detached demeanor worked and he never wanted to drop it.

Then he met Alfred. His wonderful, beautiful sunflower. With his presence a light was ignited in Ivan’s soul as he had never felt. The fire was always burning right under his skin with each passing day, and it increased dramatically when they had finally gotten together. The cold he had worked so hard on was diminished in its entirety under the attentions of the polyglot.

He had gotten careless, wanting to release some of the pent up ‘steam.’ Now his carelessness could lose the same man who lit up his life and who had sworn to love him always. “Hi,” Alfred broke the silence. 

“Hello,” Ivan replied nervously. 

Alfred cleared his throat. What did you even say in this situation? “I um… got some…” he lifted the bag in his hands, trying to smile awkwardly, “Candles?”

Ivan took a step forward, expecting to see Alfred flinch. He smiled when he did not. Always the brave little soldier, his sunflower. “Right.”

They sat in an awkward silence. Alfred was fluent in over 20 languages, yet he couldn’t think of a thing to say in any of them. What did you say when you found out your boyfriend was considered a weapon of mass destruction? Alfred was torn. He had duty to his country. Keeping a secret like this was dangerous, and stupid, and and it would mean death if anyone ever found out. He would do the right thing.

“Mind putting that skill to use and lighting these candles? You know I always burn my fingers when I try.”

The bags were forgotten on the floor, as suddenly they were embracing, tears coming from Ivan’s eyes. Ivan was so scared that he was going to lose him; everyday thoughts of Alfred finding out and punishing him for it plagued his mind. But now he knew, he knew and everything was beautiful and they would be okay.

“... It’s a little ironic that you’re from Russia and you control fire.”

“Stop talking Alfred.”


End file.
